Come Full Circle
by jennybenny2845
Summary: Narcissa reluctantly agrees to find a new companion after spending four years alone. How many dates will she go on before she finds Mr Right? Certain parts inspired by Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
1. Unexpected Discovery

The sun's golden rays seeped through an opening in the luxurious drapes that hung in front of the large windows in the master bedroom. The warmth tickled Narcissa's face, gently waking her and pulling her from her deep sleep. Her eyelids fluttered as she adjusted to the bright light. She glanced down and found Lucius' muscular arm draped across her chest. One hand cupped her bare breast. He held her tight, like a child cuddling a beloved stuffed toy. His warm breath came in shallow spurts and tickled the back of her neck.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to go back to sleep. A few minutes passed with little success. Who was she kidding? After all, she'd always been a morning person. Rarely did she ever allow herself to lie in. She often awoke with the sun or well before it. She wriggled against Lucius, trying to break free of his vice-like grip. He eased up a few moments later, allowing her to slide out from underneath him.

She donned her silk dressing gown, belted it and pulled her flaxen locks into a ponytail. Warmth coursed through her lithe body, and her heart thudded against her chest as she watched her husband sleep. The sun's golden rays created a halo around his head, highlighting the golden flecks embedded in his long blond locks. A small smile graced her pale pink lips, and she tiptoed out of the room not wanting to rouse him.

She padded down the elegant marble staircase and through the long, winding corridors to the kitchen. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and prepared a cup of tea. A small, soft sigh escaped her parted lips as the first drop of liquid fell into her mouth. She took a few more sips before exiting the kitchen, teacup in hand. She crept back up the stairs with one destination in mind.

Two flights later, she stood before the ornate door to Lucius' study. She jumped at the sound of a thud from down the hall. _He can't possibly be awake_, she thought, biting her lip to stifle a scream. _It's probably just the house-elves getting started on their daily cleaning. _She waited a full minute before removing her wand from her robe pocket. Her husband's attempt at putting up wards always amused her. She dismantled them with ease. She slipped into the room, locked the door and re-erected his flimsy wards.

She tiptoed across the room, sidestepping the particularly creaky floorboards. Along the way, she plucked a plush, silver cashmere throw off a worn wingback chair. She sat down in front of the big bay window, spread the throw across her legs and took another soothing sip of her tea. She enjoyed watching the sun climb over the tops of the rolling hills that decorated the furthest fields of their lush, well-manicured estate. The exquisite vantage point never failed to captive her. She loved how the grounds illuminated with the promise of a new day.

After all, their situation could have easily been drastically different if not for The Boy Who Lived's generosity. He'd single-handedly saved her family from life in Azkaban, or worse, death. For that, she'd be forever thankful. She embraced each day as another opportunity to prove to the naysayers that they deserved their pardon. And so, she basked in the warmth of the sun as she pondered ways to earn their forgiveness.

A persistent grumbling in her stomach forced her upright. As she turned to leave, a small black leather journal on Lucius' mahogany desk caught her eye. Curiosity overcame her, and she removed the journal's bindings. Lucius thought he'd been careful, but she knew better. She quickly decoded his writings, shocked to see the words staring back at her.

Name after name jumped out at her. The monetary amounts next to their names made her head spin. At first, she refused to believe that the families even existed, having succumbed to the demise of their kind. Question marks set off a slew of names. Possible incentives, mostly monetary, filled the margins next to them.

Her heart sunk upon realizing what she discovered. Fingers shaking, she flipped to the front and immediately felt faint. The writings confirmed her deepest, darkest fears. She pocketed the journal and stalked back up the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And, we're off! This story serves as my entry to Bex's Canon v. Fanon Competition, Bex's Chapter Competition and Gamma's Character Playlist Challenge all on the HPFC.**  
><strong>


	2. Breakdown

Lucius Malfoy awoke to the sun's harsh rays. He groaned and buried his face into his pillow. He flexed his fingertips, caressing the empty satin sheets beside him. He shivered at the loss of the warmth and softness of his wife. He reached for the blanket, which lay in a crumpled ball at the base of the bed. He covered his shoulders, relishing in the warmth as he drifted back to sleep.

"What the bloody hell!" he exclaimed as the cool air hit his bare chest. He pressed his eyes shut, his hands fumbling for the blanket. He sighed deeply and rolled over.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy! What is this?"

_Oh, shite._ The words, each uttered harsher than the last, pierced his eardrums, forcing him to sit up. He opened his eyes and watched his journal fly toward him. He caught it, glancing at it for a moment.

"What is it?" she demanded, not bothering to give him a chance to process the bombshell she flung at him. He sighed deeply, slowly bringing his eyes to her face. He knew very well that he didn't want her to ask a third time.

"I can explain," he responded, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. His heart sank as he eyed her clenched fists, clenched jaw, flushed face and deep scowl. He couldn't look into her azure irises, which he knew held despair and disappointment. He felt the mattress sink as she sat cross-legged in front of him. Her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyes bore into him as she awaited his explanation.

Lucius took a deep breath, arched his back and rested his head in his hands. His knuckles brushed against the headboard, and he ran his fingers through his long locks. His mind moved a million miles a minute as he mulled over what to say to make her understand his intentions.

"Cissa, dear… you are aware that we are trying to rebuild our reputation as one of the elite Wizarding families. We _cannot_ simply disappear into the shadows because of our past associations. We _need_ support if we're going to climb back to the top. These families are more than willing to help us achieve our goal."

Her scowl deepened, and she pressed her crossed arms into her waist. _Oh, shite._ He knew his explanation wasn't good enough. A painful silence filled the room, threatening to swallow him. His fingers reached out to touch her bare knee, hoping a gentle, loving caress would pacify her.

"Do not touch me!"

She backed away and almost fell off the bed. She rose, walked across the room and sank into an armchair. Her head turned toward the window, and her chin rested in her hand.

Lucius dangled his legs off the side of the bed and picked his black boxer briefs off the floor. He stepped into them and scratched his stomach. He walked over to his wife and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Cool grey eyes locked with azure irises. His stomach sank to his feet as he saw the hurt and anger that filled them.

"The money?"

_Is she serious? _He gulped, knowing full well that she already knew the answer.

"My accounts are frozen so I accessed yours. I'll put it all back once they're available…"

"You entered my vault? You promised me you wouldn't."

"It was the _only_ way."

"How much?" Her nails dug into the armrests, bracing for the worst. He leaned forward and whispered the amount into her ear. A sharp slap hit his left cheek with the force of a Beater hitting a Bludger. He winced and cupped his cheek, trying to divert his thoughts from the pain.

"That was a donation." She shook her head and turned away from him.

"I'm sorry, but I'd rather have _their_ support than the Ministry's. The Ministry is full of people who _hate_ us. No amount of money we _give_ to them can change _that_."

"What happened to doing things the _right_ way?"

"This _is_ the right way."

"No, it isn't!"

"It is!"

"Is it true?"

He nodded.

She stalked over to her armoire and yanked the doors open with a force Lucius never knew existed in her. Two trunks fell to the floor, and Narcissa began filling them with her clothing.

"Cissa! Quit being ridiculous. You _know_ what I'm doing is _right_. Stop!" he begged, his voice growing higher.

"Lucius, I'm leaving. There's nothing you can do to stop me. Get out of my face. Don't make me pull an Unforgivable on you," she threatened. "And, don't think I won't. After all, I learned from the best," she spat, pressing the tip of her wand into his neck.

He backed away, chest sinking in defeat. He knew better than to continue arguing with her. He slowly stepped out of the room, sadness overcoming him as he watched her place her belongings into her trunks.


	3. Walk Away

Narcissa sat on the floor staring at her trunks. Her tears caused her vision to blur, but she held them, refusing to let them drop. She'd already shed so many for him and about him. No more. She drew her knees to her chest, dropped her head and closed her eyes. Their argument played out before her, and she questioned whether she'd made the right decision.

She wallowed in her thoughts, losing all sense of time. She was unsure of how long she sat on the cold, hard floor. Her entire body trembled causing her to hug her knees tighter. Eventually, a sharp pain radiating up her backside caught her attention. Alarmed, she rose, stretched her legs, picked her trunks off the floor and placed them on the bed.

She walked back to her open armoire and stared at her robes, shaded in all hues of the rainbow and cut from various fabrics. With shaking hands, she shifted through each piece, painstakingly selecting the ones to take with her. Tears threatened to fall as she fingered the soft silk of the lavender dress robes she wore on the day Lucius proposed. She shoved it back into the depths of her armoire, as if to forget it existed.

She layered robe after robe into her arms, leaving behind pieces that contained too many memories. She carried the robes to the bed, removed the hangers, folded them and placed them into her trunk by hand.

Perhaps this was all one vicious nightmare, and everything would return to normal once she woke. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't how she pictured it coming to an end. They were getting better. He had drastically improved over the course of the past two years.

Or so she thought.

Clearly, it had been one, big lie. The journal shed light on Lucius' dubious, deceitful ways. He assured her that he'd changed. He declared himself a new man; ready to embrace the fresh start he'd been given. He claimed to have learned his lesson. Most importantly, he swore he'd never do what he'd planned.

And, like a perfect Pure-blood wife, she believed him. It hadn't occurred to her to question him or make him prove it. She trusted him that much. And oh, what a fool she'd been allowing herself to think that he'd changed.

After she finished packing, she sat on the bed with both trunks beside her. She stared at the door, her heart beating wildly against her chest. She wished he'd walk through it. He'd tell her it wasn't true. He'd tell her that she'd simply stumbled across something from his past.

But, she knew better. He blatantly dismissed her opinions and concerns as if they didn't matter. He refused to admit any wrongdoing. _How typical! And now, he's probably off getting pissed_, she thought glancing at the clock on the nightstand. She'd only been up for two hours, and it had all gone to hell.

A soft knock on her window caught her attention. Unlatching the lock, she allowed the dull brown owl into her chambers. She quickly untied the letter attached to its leg, unraveling it and scanning its contents. The response arrived quicker than she imagined. Her face lit up when she reached the end.

Head held high, she strode to the door, trunks in hand. She turned to look at the unmade bed one last time. Her most treasured wedding photograph caught her attention. Setting her trunks on the floor, she walked back to her nightstand. Her fingers shook as she fingered the diamonds that decorated the edges of the frame.

Tears trickled freely down she face as she watched herself dancing in Lucius' arms. At the end of the dance, he gracefully dipped her, and pressed a soft, sensual kiss on her lips. The image replayed while she debated whether to take it with her. _Oh, whatever_, she mused, shrinking it and placing it into her cloak pocket.

Legs shaking, she carefully descended down the stairs. She paused at the second flight, turning her head to glance at the door to Lucius' study. He'd left her no other choice. She turned her head and moved forward.

"Ready?" a soothing voice whispered into her ear as she reached the bottom of the long, paved driveway. "You're doing the right thing."

A gloved hand reached out to her, ready to take her away.

Narcissa's gaze focused on the orange, red and yellow leaves that hung from the tree branches that swayed in the cool autumn breeze. She thought for a moment to run back inside. But, she knew she had to leave. It'd be for the better.

She glanced up in the warm brown eyes that she'd missed so much. She nodded and took the proffered hand, ready for the next chapter of her life.


	4. Onwards and Upwards

Narcissa's azure irises sparkled watching the sun's rays rise over the tops of the elegant white townhouses that lined the street in the neighbourhood she now called home. Never in a million years did she imagine leaving the comforts of the Wiltshire manor for _Muggle_ Belgravia. She'd intended to reside in a community for the extremely wealthy a stone's throw from Diagon Alley. However, the news of her separation spread like wildfire. Reporters from the _Prophet_ relentlessly pursued her for her side of the story. They could only speculate on her reasons and had no problem printing their numerous theories on the front pages of their papers.

The gossipmongers even camped out by Andromeda's small cottage in the remote countryside in their attempts to obtain the information they desperately sought. They'd even gone as far as hounding Andromeda for her opinions. Of course, the ever-loyal Andromeda remained quiet, unwilling to shed anything her sister confessed in strictest confidence. It became quite clear that safety couldn't be found in a magical place. Even her properties abroad weren't immune. With Andromeda's encouragement, Narcissa spent a fortune on her Eaton Place flat.

Fall gave way to winter, the season she despised the most. The cold seeped through her bones, and she missed her husband's warmth on the coldest nights. Andromeda comforted her during those dark, difficult moments.

"_Cissy, dearest… please come downstairs and eat. I've made your favourite," Andromeda called, hoping the smell of Shepherd's pie would help snap her sister out of her senses. The blonde hadn't eaten properly in weeks, choosing to drown her sorrows in bottles of red wine. She'd always been slim, but now, she looked positively frail._

"_Go away! I don't want any of it!" _

_Andromeda shook her head at the slurred response. She crossed the room and removed the wine glass from her sister's hand._

"_You need to eat," Andromeda pleaded. Narcissa shook her head, refusing to look at Andromeda. Her eyes focused on the orange flames that burned brightly in her fireplace. _

"_Give me…" A bony, pale hand reached for the wine glass._

_Frustrated and no longer willing to play nice, Andromeda reached out and turned Narcissa's face toward her. She muffled a surprised cry as she noticed the tears that ran down her sister's lovely face._

"_Go away. Just go away. Leave me alone," Narcissa pleaded through her sobs._

"_No. I'm not going anywhere." Andromeda squeezed herself into the armchair and threw her arms around her sister. That did it. Narcissa turned and buried her face into Andromeda's bosom, her shoulders shaking violently as a fresh wave of sobs streamed through her body._

"_You miss him, don't you?" Andromeda whispered, stroking Narcissa's tangled locks. Narcissa nodded, letting out a string of incoherent words. Andromeda merely nodded, unsure of how to respond. Her arms wrapped tighter around her sister._

"_Oh, Cissy, I'm so sorry. Go ahead, dearest… let it all out. We'll get through this together."_

Andromeda played an integral part in pulling Narcissa out of her depressed state. She moved into the townhouse with little Teddy, and the two of them provided Narcissa the company she desperately needed. Narcissa adored the little boy, and she constantly showered him with attention and affection. Channeling her inner Black strength, Narcissa pushed through her initial sadness and anger. And so, a year and a half later, she stood tall and proud as a much stronger person.

"_Thank you so much, Mrs Malfoy." Healer Miriam Strout wrapped her arms around Narcissa's back and hugged her tightly._

"_You're welcome. It's the least I can do." _

"_Oh… I don't think so," Healer Strout teased, her eyes twinkling._

"_I couldn't possibly…" Narcissa responded, a pretty blush colouring her pale cheeks._

"_Oh yes… oh yes, you can."_

Finally free from Lucius' control, Narcissa donated both her money and time to St. Mungo's. Her money helped provide much-needed services for the many people affected physically and mentally by the war. Her training treating injured Death Eaters went to good use during her work as a part-time Healer.

Her personal life also flourished during her separation. She befriended women her age who were newly single. The women, like her, had left the magical world for safe haven in Belgravia. Her relationship with Andromeda only grew stronger with the extra time they spent together. Draco, initially surprised that she left his father, supported her decision, and their relationship was as strong as ever.

More importantly, she repaired her once tarnished reputation within the magical community. Slowly but surely, the _Prophet_ began focusing more on her positive contributions to their world. Her separation soon became old news, which delighted her to no avail.

Overall, Narcissa loved and enjoyed her new life, which held a greater sense of peace and purpose. Her initial loneliness faded in the comfort of her beloved sister and friends. Unfortunately, the solitude reared its ugly head every evening as she crawled into her large, luxurious bed to spend the night alone.


	5. The Proposal

"Hullo there, Mum…" Draco drawled, a smirk consuming his face as he watched Narcissa stumble into the kitchen.

"Merlin, Draco!" Narcissa yelled, jumping at the sound of his voice. Her hand automatically reached for her wand stowed away in the pocket of her robe. "Do not _ever_ do that to me again!"

"Sheesh, Mum! Sorry!" Draco bit down on his lower lip, trapping the laugh stuck in his throat. His cool grey eyes twinkled at the sight of his normally prim and proper mother. Her knotted hair, smeared makeup and last night's outfit amused him. _If only Father could see this!_

"I feel like death," Narcissa moaned, gripping the back of a chair for support.

"You certainly look like it!"

Her grip tightened as she braced for another spinning cycle. Her body felt trapped on a merry-go-round. She squinted, attempting block out the harsh sunlight that filled the kitchen. Her head throbbed at the sound of his booming voice. She fell into the chair with a loud plop, shut her eyes and placed her head on the tabletop.

Deciding it'd be best to help, Draco brought her a large glass of water and a hangover potion. Hand shaking, Narcissa reached for the potion only to grab empty air. Draco sighed and tipped it into her mouth. _What a mess!_

"Thank you." Narcissa grasped his hand and gave him a loving look.

"You're welcome, Mum. What happened?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"The _devil_ created open bar," she grumbled, downing the water in one gulp.

Draco let out a small chuckle, which turned into a full laugh as he looked at the scowl on her face. He set her off and soon, she too was laughing alongside him.

"Did you have fun at least?" he asked, wiping the tears from his face, once they'd calmed down.

Narcissa nodded, a light blush highlighting her face.

"Well, that's good. You can only imagine how _worried_ I was when I showed up late only to find that you hadn't arrived."

"Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't intend for this to happen!"

"Mum, don't worry about it! It's fine! Anyway… I have a proposal for you."

She cocked one perfectly coiffed eyebrow up at him. _What could he possibly be planning? _

"What's that?"

"So, you've been separated from Father for what… three years?" he inquired, reaching out to clasp her hand in his.

"Four," Narcissa corrected, pulling her hand away. She crossed her arms over her chest, and her brow furrowed. _I don't like the sound of this one bit._

"Don't you think it's about time you get back out there?" he asked, his tone soft and his eyes even softer. His puppy-dog eyes never failed to work on her.

"Uh…" Narcissa tried to avoid his glance, but failed miserably. His cool grey irises, filled with rare warmth, tugged at her heartstrings. _Bloody__ hell! I'm not escaping this conversation, am I? _

"Perhaps," she responded, breaking the uncomfortable silence that filled the kitchen. "But…"

"But what?"

"One, I'm still married to your father. That's enough to scare away any potential suitor. Two, I'm too old. And quite frankly, there isn't anyone I'm interested in dating."

"I figured you'd say that," he responded, rubbing his palms in anticipation. _Perfect, exactly as I expected._

_Shite._ She clutched her abdomen trying to ride out a wave of nausea that ran through her body. She wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol or to Draco's plan. _Both... definitely both_, she decided, glancing back into Draco's twinkling grey eyes.

"Mother, I've taken the liberty of arranging some dates for you. You're far too _wonderful_ a woman to spend your evenings _alone_."

Narcissa's eyebrows shot up her forehead. _Is he serious?_

"Draco, I'm perfectly comfortable being alone," she pleaded, hoping his proposal was just a joke. "I really don't need the hassle of _another_ man in my life especially after all that's happened with your father."

"Mother, will you _please_ go on these dates for me?" He threw her another soft look, purposely making his voice quiver. _Time to turn on the charm. She's so close to saying yes. I know it!_

"Alright, if you insist," Narcissa acquiesced with a soft sigh. _What trouble have I brought upon myself?_

"Lovely! I _knew_ you would. I'll send them here. You don't need the _Prophet_ reporting this."

"Thank you, Draco. That's very... thoughtful... of you," Narcissa replied, fingering a loose thread on the tablecloth covering the kitchen table.

"You're welcome. Now, get some rest. The first date will be this Friday." He threw his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek and left before she could argue otherwise. He felt awful taking advantage of her in her condition, but he had to do it.

_I cannot believe I agreed, _Narcissa mused, pressing her forehead on her glass screen door. She _knew_ she couldn't take it back. She didn't want to disappoint him.

And if she was completely honest with herself, a part of her was somewhat excited for the dates. He certainly made her curious and a bit anxious to meet the men he selected. She had no idea who would actually agree to date her. _H__e has a point… and it'd be nice to dance with someone again_.


	6. The War Hero

Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a nervous woman. She always carried herself with the grace and esteem of a proper Pure-blood woman. A woman of her status never showed her true emotions whilst out in public. She'd perfected her role of the "Ice Queen", which helped her family escape from the aftermath of the war with slaps on the wrist and hefty fines.

Over the course of the week, her mask slipped, revealing little pieces of her true self to her girlfriends. She mentioned her upcoming dates, thinking they wouldn't think much of it. It had the opposite effect for it was an accomplishment to secure a date at her age. It meant that woman her age were still attractive to men. It gave her girlfriends hope that they'd find men so they wouldn't be alone.

They celebrated over cocktails at a lavish lounge. The women involved in the dating scene gave her advice. Others offered to help her shop for new clothes. Some offered to take her to the salon, and another even suggested that she have a mini makeover before her date. The runner in the group insisted Narcissa tag along on a few runs to drop some weight beforehand.

Their implications frustrated Narcissa, but she refused to let it show. She didn't understand all the trouble women, especially women her age, went through to attract a man. Narcissa never struggled in that department. _As if I need to go through all that_, Narcissa scoffed, flipping through her dresses. She selected one and went to the bathroom to get ready. Yet, as she sat down to do her hair, her hand shook slightly. _Maybe I'm a little nervous_, she admitted, taking a few deep breaths. Eventually, she settled down and finished getting ready.

* * *

><p>"I've got it!" Narcissa called to her house-elves as she ran down the stairs to the front door. She slowed when she approached the last set, not wanting to look too eager. She smoothed her dress, took a deep breath and opened the door.<p>

"Mrs Malfoy!" The young man's face flushed to match the colour of his hair. The bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand tumbled to the ground, landing with a soft thud at her feet. They both bent down to retrieve the downed bouquet. Her fingertips brushed against his causing him to flush harder. She didn't think it possible for him to turn redder.

She rose and looked down upon him with a bemused look on her face. His gaze remained glued to her front stoop. _What have I gotten myself into? _He debated whether he could simply feign ill and leave. He cursed himself for agreeing to this, but stayed, focusing on steadying his beating heart.

"I'm up _here_, Mr Weasley," Narcissa commanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "You look like a _fool_. Get _up_."

Ron Weasley cringed as her high and haughty voice filled his ears. He wrapped his hand around the stems of the bouquet and turned his head. He'd never found feet attractive. That was until he gazed at hers, delicately displayed in a pair of sky-high stilettos. Waves of inappropriate thoughts crossed his mind. He admired her lithe body, clad in a floor-length burgundy evening gown that hugged her curves. _Gryffindor red's never looked this good. _His eyes took her exposed pale skin, starting at her elegant neck and ending at her waist. The deep cut of her dress accentuated her beautiful breasts. _No! No! No! This is Malfoy's mum! You don't find her attractive!_

"Come," Narcissa beckoned, taking off down a long hallway. Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair and followed her, immediately drawn to the exposed skin of her back and the gentle sway of her slender hips.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of the succulent food spread across the ebony tabletop. His stomach grumbled in appreciation, and he licked his lips, excited for the delicious meal that awaited him. He sat down and filled his plate with a bit of everything. Heaps of food entered his mouth at a rapid pace.

Narcissa crinkled her nose in disgust. She tapped her foot and cocked her head toward her chair. _Has he forgotten that I'm here? _She'd heard stories from her son about how Ron behaved around food, but she didn't want to believe him. _How can one be so uncouth? _Her brow furrowed at the sight of his elbows resting on the tabletop.

"Gonna eat?" he asked, his mouth full of food. "It's really good!" A morsel fell to the floor. Narcissa shook her head and glared at her chair, pointing at it with her chin. Ron, completely engrossed in his meal, ignored her request.

Narcissa huffed and pulled out her own chair, its legs scrapping the floor. She sat down and spread her serviette across her lap. She bypassed the food, opting to fill her glass to the brim with red wine. She filled his glass, knowing they'd both need it to get through the evening.

No words passed between the two. The sounds of silverware clanking and Ron's loud chewing echoed off the dining room's walls.

"So, you work as an Auror?" Narcissa asked, finally breaking the stuffy silence. Her question caught him off guard. His head snapped up, briefly making eye contact.

"Not anymore. I help George run the store," he replied, looking back at his food.

"I see." _Figures he wouldn't be able to handle a job of that caliber!_

"It's not like I can't get back into it if I want to. George _needs _me," Ron snapped. "Family's important. You, out of anyone, should know _that_." _Who does she think she is?_

"I wasn't saying that, Mr Weasley. I'm sorry to have offended you. Family is _very_ important," she agreed, purposefully softening her tone to pacify the situation.

"It's fine." Ron quickly reached for his wine glass, downing the contents in one gulp. He refilled it and downed it again, setting the empty wine bottle beside him. Narcissa snapped her fingers, summoning another bottle from a house-elf.

Another uncomfortable silence engulfed the room. Narcissa couldn't take it anymore. _I didn't get all dressed up for nothing!_

"Tell me about the business," she coaxed, all traces of condescension removed from her voice. Ron looked back up at her, holding eye contact longer than before.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything." She batted her eyelashes at him. "I want to know _everything_."

And so, with his wine glass gripped tightly in his hand, Ron told her of his life post-War. The wine certainly helped, allowing him to converse with her.

Narcissa eyed him as he chatted. _Oh my, has he grown! _She envisioned running her hands all over his muscular chest, undoubtedly developed during his years spent as an Auror. His crisp white dress shirt, rolled to his elbows, showed off his toned forearms. His eyes twinkled when he talked, and he became animated while recounting his stories. His puppy-dog eyes and floppy red hair tugged at her heartstrings, and she knew she had to have him.

"... Honestly… I love Hermione, but she's such a nag!"

Ron realised what he'd said, who he'd said it to and immediately threw his hands over his mouth.

"Don't worry Mr Weasley. I won't tell anyone," Narcissa drawled, letting out a small laugh.

"Good. Call me Ron. Mr Weasley sounds too formal."

"Alright, Ron," she replied, dragging out each letter of his name as if to test it on her lips. "Continue."

_He's probably untouched_, Narcissa determined, nodding and smiling at whatever he'd just said._  
><em>

"Do you find me attractive, Ron?" Narcissa interjected, bending forward and reaching for her wine glass. His bright blue eyes finally moved from his chicken breast to her breasts. _Works like a charm every time._

"Uh…" Ron's knife dropped and hit the floor with a clang that echoed off the dining room's walls. He bent down to retrieve it and banged his head on the underside of the table. He stared at her, one hand cradling his head and a look of sheer disbelief on his red face.

"It's a rather _easy_ question that requires an even _simpler_ answer. Do you find me attractive? Yes or no?" She slipped her foot out of her stiletto, extended her leg toward him and rubbed her foot against his.

Ron yelped and jumped in his seat.

"Yes," he whispered. Narcissa slowly slid her foot up his leg and caressed his ankle. Ron turned yet another shade of red. Narcissa bit her lip, stifling her laughter. She loved watching him lose his composure.

"What did you say?" Her foot inched higher, caressing his muscular calf.

"Yes!"

"Good." She flashed him a smile. "And to think, I'd wasted both our time this evening…"

"You didn't!" he interrupted. _What the hell are you doing? _"You look lovely!" he complimented, smiling back at her.

"Thank you. I know I'm no spring chicken, but I'd like to think I still look good."

"You do!" he affirmed, nodding his head.

"Good... because I can _assure_ you that certain things come better wrapped in _older_ packages."

His eyes widened. _Is she hitting on me? _

Narcissa's sinful foot rose several inches, causing Ron to shift his hips away from her, desperate to hide the result of her touches.

"Stop it," Ron hissed, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Dance with me."

"What?" _She can't possibly be serious!_

"_Dance_ with me."

* * *

><p>Narcissa sauntered to the middle of the dance floor and turned to him. She motioned for him to approach, and he shuffled toward her. His mind begged him to decline her request. He'd never been a strong dancer and the alcohol certainly wouldn't help. His body betrayed him and moved him closer to her. He stood in front of her, his arms pressed against his sides, unable to recall where to place them.<p>

"Have you ever held a woman?" she whispered, stepping closer. "Like really held one?" Narcissa pressed her body against his.

Ron shook his head, unable to hide his immediate reaction to her small frame, soft skin and sweet perfume. She positioned his hands on her body, and they began to dance around the room. As with dinner, the start was a complete disaster.

"I'm sorry," he muttered as he trampled on Narcissa's toes for the umpteenth time.

"It's alright. Let's try again," she encouraged. "And one…"

After a few tries, Ron's ability improved under Narcissa's guidance. They'd even completed a few rounds around the ballroom without him stepping on her toes or tripping on the hem of her dress.

Ron carefully dipped Narcissa as the last notes played. The bright lights in the ballroom bounced off her sternum. He lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on it, drawing a soft gasp from the beautiful blonde. His lips moved on their own accord, climbing up her neck before coming to rest against her red lips.

He pressed his lips against hers, softly at first. To his surprise, she didn't back away. She rose and pressed her body against his. His hand cupped her backside, and her breathy moan sent shivers down his spine. Emboldened, he gently nudged her mouth open, desperate to taste her. She acquiesced, allowing her tongue to tango with his. His hands wandered up and down her body, caressing her curves.

"I'm sorry," Ron murmured, panting slightly when they pulled away from each other. He caught sight of her lips, which were swollen from his excessive attention. He blushed and avoided looking into her eyes. He hadn't a clue what came over him.

Curiosity finally overcame him, and he peered at her. To his surprise, she wasn't angry. A smile graced her face, and her eyes sparkled.

"Shall we continue this upstairs?" she purred, pressing her lips against the outer shell of his ear. A strand of hair fell from her bun and tickled his cheek.

"Yes." Ron placed his hand in hers and allowed her to escort him upstairs.

* * *

><p>Ron awoke the following morning with his limbs tangled in silk sheets. He slowly opened his eyes and took in the unfamiliar surroundings, which were far more luxurious than anything he'd ever seen. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small piece of parchment, folded neatly and resting against an antique alarm clock. His name, etched in an elegant script, stared back at him. <em>Merlin, what did I do<em>, he wondered as he opened the note.

_Good morning, Mr Weasley. Breakfast awaits you downstairs. Thank you for the lovely evening. And remember, when you leave, that a Pure-blood rode it first._

Ron groaned. The colour drained from his face as he recalled the previous evening's events. _Wine… lots of wine… wine so red it looked like blood. Dancing – a waltz, awkward at the start, but better toward the end. His lips pressed on her delectable sternum_. _Her offer. His acceptance. The diabolical smile on her face as she opened herself for him._

He grew dizzy, swaying slightly under the copious amount of alcohol still trapped in his body. The contents of his stomach soon fell to the floor. He cleaned up the mess with a wave of his wand and slammed his head into the pillow. _Would it be too much to ask her to Obliviate me? No one can know about this!_

He rolled over and stared at the intricate molding that decorated her ceiling. His mind buzzed, and he felt the start of a mild headache. _Then again, it's not like Hermione and I are together… right now anyway. No one has to know._ With that, he rolled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

Narcissa's pale pink lips curled into a small smile. _Looks like all I needed was a little sexual healing_, she thought, sipping her tea. Much to her surprise, she enjoyed the evening and early morning with the Weasley boy. He'd been attentive, eager to learn and eager to please. His skills in the bedroom, like his skills on the dance floor, improved greatly under her guidance and instruction. She didn't regret stripping him of his innocence. In fact, she quite enjoyed it.

After much consideration, she decided that molding him into the man she wanted required too much effort. Though, part of believed he'd accept her offer. She noticed a burning desire in him to distinguish himself from the arguably more famous members of the trio. Unfortunately, she'd always see him as the loyal sidekick, not the hero. He lacked the intelligence to truly succeed, preferring to ride on the coattails of others. He'd only succeeded since he aligned himself with the winning side.

Also, she gathered from his drunken confessions that his heart belonged to the _Mudblood_. _What a shame. She could do so much better._ The bleeding-heart romantic in her hoped for his sake that he'd win her back. Clearly, he needed a strong woman who'd take care of his every need. Narcissa Malfoy wasn't that woman. She'd done it with Lucius, and she wasn't about to do it again. _It's about time I get taken care of for a change!_

She cringed at the sound of his footsteps descending down her marble staircase like an angry hippogriff. _Hopefully he puts what I've taught him to good use_, she scoffed, eyeing the disheveled redhead before her.

"You completely took advantage of me!" Ron yelled, slamming her note on the tabletop.

Narcissa turned to face him. His traitorous eyes roamed up and down her long legs, and his hands yearned to touch them.

"On please. You _enjoyed_ it," she responded with an airy laugh. "You can admit it," she encouraged, turning her attention back to the _Prophet_ that lay on the table.

Ron succumbed to his temptation and lunged at her, pinning her against the table. His lips sucked her neck, drawing a moan of appreciation from Narcissa.

An hour later, Narcissa sank down into her tub after breakfast, her body sore from the last session. _Remind me to buy a new table!_ No amount of house-elf magic could completely clean it. _I should probably burn those sheets too, _she decided, watching the bubbles form and cover her soiled skin.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she reached for her champagne flute on the tray by her feet. She savoured the crisp taste, enjoying the way the bubbles tickled her throat. _That was exactly what I needed. _She downed the rest of the gold liquid with a flick of her slim wrist. Her thoughts moved to what to wear for her next date. She couldn't wait to meet him.


	7. The Strange One

"So… how was it?" Draco inquired, wiggling his eyebrows at his mother over brunch the following morning.

"How was what, dear?" Narcissa popped a strawberry into her mouth and focused on the wall behind her son's head.

"You know… your _date_," Draco replied, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Oh… that!" Narcissa popped another strawberry into her mouth.

"Yes… that." Draco drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. _It couldn't have gone over well!_ However, her coy behaviour troubled him since she typically answered his questions in a direct no-nonsense manner. _What's she hiding?_

"Oh, dear… it was rather… lovely."

Draco's choked on his coffee and spilled some on his trousers. He wiped it away with a loud coughing fit that drew curious looks from the other patrons.

"Lovely?" The color drained from his face.

"Yes. Mr Weasley was rather entertaining. In fact, I think I'll invite him over _again_."

"What?" Draco exclaimed, banging his hand on the table. "You cannot possibly be serious!"

Narcissa shrugged and grinned at him. _Serves him right for setting that up!_

"Oh yes. I rather _fancy_ him. He'll make a wonderful father and we can have a litter of children. You know how badly I wanted a little girl. Though, the Weasleys typically give birth to boys."

Draco's eyes widened, and he felt faint. _How did my plan backfire?_

Narcissa stared at him, trying to hide her amusement at his panicked state. She wanted to watch him squirm a bit more. His eyes bore into hers as if to pull the truth out of her.

"Draco, honestly!" Narcissa reached across the table and placed her hand over his. She rubbed a few small circles on the back of his hand to calm him down. "I'm _not_ being serious."

"Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Now… if you'd like, you can set me up with _Potter_. He's become a rather attractive man, don't you think? I've always liked them tall, dark and handsome…"

"Mother!" Draco croaked, almost vomiting at the thought of his mother with his archrival. "Seriously?"

Narcissa let out a long laugh, no longer able to keep her composure.

"Maybe… maybe not… think about it," she responded with a shrug. _That'll teach him his lesson._

* * *

><p>Friday came quicker than she expected, and she found herself standing in front of her armoire trying to find a gown to wear. Surprisingly enough, she wasn't as nervous as the first time. She could handle whomever Draco selected for her. After all, she survived an evening with Ronald Weasley.<em><br>_

_Next one's a Ravenclaw_, she decided, fingering the sleeve of a dark blue silk gown. No self-respecting Slytherin would ever agree to date her. Her son knew better than to set her up with a Hufflepuff. As she styled her hair, she tried to recall the Pure-Blood Ravenclaw families, trying to decide which man would show up at her door. She slipped on a pair of silver stilettos and donned a matching pair of dangly earrings. _Perfect_, she concluded, surveying her reflection in her mirror.

"I've got it!" she called to her house-elves as a loud knock echoed through her flat. Narcissa descended down her marble staircase and opened the door. "Mr Lovegood?"

Narcissa's jaw dropped at the sight of the eccentric man standing on her front door stoop. She hadn't laid eyes on him since their last year at Hogwarts. Xenophilius looked worse for wear, clad in a hideous set of yellow dress robes. She noticed rips in the material, a cheap-looking polyester. His shoulder-length white hair hung in loose strands against his long face, and it looked in desperate need of a wash. He reminded her of an omelette.

"Evening, Mrs Malfoy," he slurred, swaying slightly. He almost fell over, saving himself with an arm propped against her front door.

_Oh, gods no! _Narcissa crinkled her nose at the smell of Firewhisky that surrounded him. She grabbed his forearm and dragged him into her home. She sat him in a chair in the front hallway and summoned a house-elf who returned moments later with a hangover potion and glass of water.

"Take this," she ordered, thrusting the items into his hands. He didn't fight her and downed both in one gulp. "Let's eat." She extended her hand to him. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. She huffed and stomped off down the hallway not bothering to see whether he was following her.

Narcissa pulled out her own chair, placed her serviette in her lap and immediately filled her glass with red wine. She kept the bottle next to her knowing she'd need a lot of it tonight. She sensed Xenophilius' anger, but couldn't figure out why. _What have I done to him?_

Xenophilius entered a few minutes later and flopped into his chair. He removed a silver flask from his robe pocket and took a long swig. He began filling his plate with food, not bothering to take one look at Narcissa.

Like her first date, an awkward silence engulfed the room. Narcissa attempted to read his mind, but couldn't break through the mental blocks that he held in place. His ability impressed her for she was a rather great Legilimens. After all, she'd learned from the best. Her curiosity rose. _What could he possibly be hiding?_

"What happened to my Luna?"

Narcissa's eyes widened. Her fork slipped and hit her plate with a loud clang. He shot her a nasty glare that sent shivers down her spine. Goosebumps formed on her pale flesh, and she shifted in her seat.

"What happened to my Luna?" he demanded again, raising his voice.

"I don't know," she whispered back, becoming more and more afraid as the seconds passed.

"You do know!" He slapped his hand on the table causing Narcissa to jump in her seat. "You _do_ know! You were there the whole _damn_ time, weren't you? Tell me! Tell me! Was she _raped_? Was she _tortured_?"

"I don't know." Narcissa hung her head and made sure her mental blocks were in place, lest he attempted to read her mind.

"You are a _liar_!" Xenophilius roared, pointing his finger at her. "You were one of _them_, weren't you?"

Narcissa, enraged at his accusation, slammed her silverware against her plate and stomped over to him.

"Look!" she demanded, rolling up the sleeve of her dress. She shoved her unmarked forearm at him. "I was never one of _them_," she spat.

Xenophilius' stare immediately softened as he stared at the pristine flesh before him. He'd been so sure. After all, she'd kept their company and sheltered them in the Manor.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," he muttered, turning his eyes to the hardwood floor.

"It's fine." Narcissa walked back to her seat and took a large sip of wine to calm her raging nerves.

"You really don't know?" he asked once more, his tone softer.

Narcissa shook her head, hoping he'd drop it. _The truth will destroy him._

"If you remember, will you tell me?" he pleaded. She nodded, unwilling to answer his request with a bold-faced lie.

"Xenophilius, I'm very sorry about what happened to you daughter."

Narcissa's soft tone and even softer look caught his attention. His head snapped up, and his green eyes locked with hers. She sighed, relieved to see his anger begin to fade. He mumbled an incoherent response, which she chose to ignore.

"You have to understand that I did whatever I needed to do to keep my family _safe_. Please, Xenophilius. You, out of _anyone_ should understand that." He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

Another silence filled the room, but both parties welcomed it for it allowed them to clear their heads.

"Can we try this again?" Xenophilius gave her a small smile, hoping he hadn't angered her with his silly accusation.

"Of course." Narcissa leaned forward and placed a hand over his. His eyes widened, and he flinched at the contact. He thought to pull away, but kept his hand under hers, enjoying its softness and warmth. It'd been thirteen long years since he'd been in the company of a woman. He had no idea how to act, let alone what to say.

"Thank you," he breathed, losing himself in the depths of her azure irises. He let his eyes linger on the intricate lace sequins that adorned the bodice of her dress. The fabric clung to her beautiful breasts. He wondered for a moment if they were as soft as her hand. _What is wrong with you? _His face flushed, and he quickly averted his gaze, hoping she hadn't caught him leering at her.

"So… you've finally left the git?" _Oh shite_, Xenophilius thought, slapping his forehead. _You really are something!_

Much to his surprise, she laughed.

"Yes… yes, I've left the git," she confirmed. "So, tell me about _The_ _Quibbler_," she encouraged, not wanting to discuss her husband.

"… So bloody hard to find, but I _know _they exist. We looked for them once in Sweden. Such a pretty place! We'd love to go back…" Xenophilius prattled on about the elusive Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

He'd made it his life's mission to find one. Narcissa hadn't a clue why. Nor did she care. She nodded, feigning interest in whatever he said. She interjected his babbling with a few "yeses" and "tell me mores". Obviously, Crumple-Horned Snorkacks weren't real, but she wasn't about to burst his bubble.

And so, with the help of Firewhisky and wine, they pushed through the initial awkwardness and made it through dinner without anymore altercations.

* * *

><p>"Walk with me," Narcissa interrupted him before he could get into too much detail about some plant he'd discovered in the woods by his home.<p>

They'd just finished dessert, and she couldn't take it anymore. He dominated the conversation, hardly letting her get a word in. Granted, she didn't mind. She'd rather not have him know the details of her personal life.

"Oh, it's quite alright… I think I'll just go home now," Xenophilius declined, shaking his head. A walk in her garden wasn't on the agenda. He signed up for dinner, and dinner only.

"Please," she asked again, forming her lips into a pout. Xenophilius' trousers tightened, and he remained glued to his chair. He shifted a little, desperate to think of something else. "I want to show you something."

She rose and strode toward the door. She extended her hand to him. His body betrayed him, and he caved. He took it and allowed her to lead him to the majestic garden behind her flat.

Narcissa shivered as the wind howled. She inched closer to his larger frame, seeking comfort in his warmth. He noticed and offered her his coat.

"Thank you," she murmured, pulling it on and wrapping it around her waist. She could have cast a heating charm, but she sincerely appreciated his gesture.

His coat smelled of his cologne, a blend of sandalwood and spices. She shivered again and was well aware that it wasn't due to the cold. The wind whipped again, causing the material of his shirt to cling to his chest, which was surprisingly muscular. She tore her gaze away, shook her head and led them deeper into the garden. They finally stopped in front of a row of low bushes.

Xenophilius gasped as his eyes took in the orange radish-like fruit hanging upside down from the low bushes.

"Dirigible plums!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "You know of them?"

"Yes," she breathed. A light blush coloured her pale face. "I'll let you in on a little secret."

"What's that?"

"They enhance one's ability to accept the extraordinary, right?" She stepped closer to him.

"Yes." She was too damn close. He could count all her long eyelashes, and her sweet perfume filled his nose. He wanted to push her away, but his body wouldn't move.

"I used to eat them."

"That's perfectly fine. They're edible. They're rather good slathered in chocolate..." His face reddened.

"I ate one every day when I lived in the Manor with _Him_," she began. "I'd eat one and wish for the extraordinary, something _different_… something more _peaceful_ that what had become my normal," she confessed, gazing at the grass underneath her stilettos.

Xenophilius' heart felt as if it was about to explode. Perhaps he actually had more in common with this woman than he'd expected. The light went off in his head. He finally understood. Her slim shoulders shook, and he pulled her closer to him.

"Is that why you did it?"

She nodded and turned her head away. He reached out, cupped her chin and turned her head to face his. He pressed his body against hers, relieved when she didn't back away.

"For what it's worth, I think you did a very brave thing," he whispered. "_Two_ very brave things." He noticed a teardrop forming in the corner of her eye, and he brushed it away. "Don't cry, Narcissa," he murmured.

She sighed and tilted her head at him. Her pale pink lips parted slightly as if inviting him to kiss her. He bent down, slowly at first, giving her plenty of time to turn away. She stayed. Encouraged, he inched closer, feeling her breath ghosting against his lips. He placed a soft, chaste kiss on her lips, closing the distance between them. She moaned softly, pulled him closer and deepened the kiss.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Narcissa awoke tangled in her silk sheets. She glanced down at her body, covered with telltale bite marks and bruises. He'd been a bit aggressive, but she hadn't minded much. In fact, she rather enjoyed his attentions. She replayed the scenes from the previous evening and early morning. She blushed and shook her head. <em>What is wrong with you? <em>Seducing the Weasley boy was one thing, but allowing Xenophilius Lovegood to have his way with her wasn't. That right belonged to another man. _Used to_, she reminded herself.

_Shite_, she swore, noticing the time. She was already an hour late to brunch with Draco. She dressed quickly, not wanting him to catch her in a state of undress if he decided to stop by her flat.

On the way out, she noticed a small piece of parchment propped up against the nightstand on the side of the bed where he'd slept. Her fingers shook slightly as she opened it.

_I forgive you._


	8. Reluctant Realisation

The following Wednesday, Narcissa's girlfriends insisted that they leave the comforts of their homes in the Muggle world for a night out in Diagon Alley. A new French restaurant had just opened to rave reviews. The establishment had been the talk of the town, and her girlfriends simply had to try it. Narcissa hadn't wanted to go, claiming that she'd eaten far better food in France. Her girlfriends begged her to come, claiming the night wouldn't be the same without her. Also, according to the gossip rags, the chef was quite attractive, single and a great catch. Narcissa, ever curious about the goings-on in the Wizarding world, reluctantly agreed to accompany them.

Much to her surprise, she rather enjoyed herself that evening. The food, cooked to perfection, rivaled some of the best restaurants she'd dined at while in France. The chef visited their table often to discuss the various dishes and wines. He'd caught the eye of one of her friends, and he seemed taken by the woman. They were only halfway through dinner, and so far, it had been perfect. Narcissa wondered why she isolated herself from her former world and made a note to visit again soon.

However, Narcissa's feelings of perfection soon faded as her notoriety had its downfalls.

* * *

><p>"I heard they only shagged <em>once<em> a week and slept in _separate_ bedrooms," a woman seated at the table behind Narcissa whispered to her friends.

"Once a week? That's absolutely _absurd_!" a second woman cried. "Even Willie and I shag more than that!"

"I don't know about you, but I'd do _anything_ and _everything_ to keep a man like him in _my _bed," a third commented, fanning herself with her menu.

"He's so handsome!" exclaimed a fourth. "He looks even _better_ now that he's not with _her_!"

The inane comments from the four women brought an angry blush to Narcissa's pale cheeks. They obviously hadn't a clue about what happened during her marriage. Their sex life had been healthy, and they engaged in it regularly. Sex simply hadn't been an issue between the two of them. In fact, the act held them together through the more difficult parts of their marriage. They'd never once slept in separate beds. That concept never made sense to them.

"Just look at her," demanded the first. "She's far too skinny! Men prefer women with _curves_… something to hold. I mean, who orders a _salad_ out of all the things you can order here?" the woman complained, slamming her menu on the table.

"She's probably cold too. I mean, they don't call her the "Ice Queen" for nothing!" the second added. "As if a woman like _that _could show fire and passion in bed!" she finished with a huff.

The tips of Narcissa's ears turned red. She dug her nails into her thigh, desperately suppressing her desire to cast curses at the women. She shook her head and tried to focus on the conversation between her girlfriends.

"Don't mind them, dear," the girlfriend to her left whispered. "They're just jealous," she finished, patting Narcissa's hand.

"They clearly have no idea what they're talking about," the girlfriend to her right added.

Narcissa nodded and turned her attention back to her salad. She poked at it halfheartedly, having completely lost her appetite. _This is exactly why I hate coming back here!_

Her positive contributions to the Wizarding World no longer interested the writers of the _Prophet_ and other publications. They'd gone back to printing stories on the downfall of the Malfoys' marriage. One tabloid even printed stories speculating on when the former power couple would file for divorce. The writers encouraged their readers to place their bets on the date. The reader who guessed closest to the actual date would win a decent amount of Galleons.

Worse of all, the papers printed stories about the relationships Lucius entered into following his separation. He'd been linked to many beautiful witches. Supposedly, Lucius had been a faithful man, save for a few dalliances at the start of their marriage. It only made sense for him to see someone else now that he wasn't with Narcissa. And so, he indulged in whoever caught his attention. The trashier publications even speculated that he'd fathered secret children after their separation. Another took an entirely different spin on it, claiming that Lucius' attentions turned to wizards, having completely given up on witches after his insufferable marriage to Narcissa.

The stories sickened her, and she hoped they weren't true. Then again, they'd separated. She's slept with two other men, and she assumed he'd been with other women. Four years certainly was a long time to go without the comfort of someone else. Plus, Lucius' appetite for affection meant he couldn't last long being alone.

The thought of him with other women didn't sit well with her. It didn't matter that she was supposedly over him. A part of her heart would forever belong to him. Getting it back wouldn't be an easy task.

Sighing, she finally lifted her eyes from her plate to take in the lavish surroundings of the restaurant. Her happiness had long since faded, and she wanted to go home.

Her azure irises floated from tabletop to tabletop, lingering on the couples on dinner dates that evening. She focused on every heated gaze and soft caress, longing to experience those moments again. She recalled all the romantic dinners Lucius took her on during their marriage. It wasn't unlike Lucius to whisk her away to Paris for a lovely dinner overlooking the Seine. There was always something about Paris that made them much more amorous. Her face flushed as she recalled the passionate sessions they engaged in after dinner.

She immediately tried to push the memories from her mind, trying to channel her feelings upon discovering his journal and plans. She tried to focus on why she left him in the first place. Her efforts failed, and images of his toned body pressed against hers filled her mind.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar looking strand of blond hair that glittered in the light of the dining room.

"Daphne Greengrass?" a woman from the table behind her shrieked, shock colouring her voice. "He's with _her_ now?"

"Isn't his son dating her sister? How convenient! Like father like son!" the second woman exclaimed.

"She _is_ rather pretty," argued a third. "Bet you _she's_ more warm and willing than his _wife_."

The other women agreed and launched into an animated conversation about the couple.

Narcissa felt woozy, and she felt the bile rise in her throat as she stared at the couple. They looked absolutely enamored with each other. Lucius' hand was over hers. Occasionally, he'd run it through Daphne's hair, tucking an errant strand of blonde hair that kept falling from the bun at the back of her head. Daphne would run her perfectly manicured nails up and down the exposed skin of his toned forearm. Lucius looked perfectly content, having the full attention of a young and beautiful witch.

He leaned forward and whispered something to Daphne. She smiled widely, and her melodic laugh filled the room, drawing looks from the diners beside them. Narcissa watched, in horror, as one of Daphne's hands slipped under the table and came to rest on Lucius' muscular thigh. Daphne's face flushed, and she squirmed in her seat. She tried to back away, but Lucius only pulled her closer.

He finally backed away after what seemed like ages. He pressed his lips against a spot behind Daphne's ear. Daphne responded with a fiery kiss to Lucius' lips.

Narcissa turned away, goosebumps forming on her flesh, unable to tear her eyes away from her husband's open display of affection. The spot behind her ear tingled, and she felt as if his lips were on her again, caressing the spot that drove her wild.

Unfortunately, his heart belonged to someone else.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me," she announced to her girlfriends who'd noticed her reaction to Lucius' behaviour.<p>

She all but ran to the nearest loo, kneeling before a toilet and emptying the contents of her stomach. She didn't bother to cast a silencing charm over the stall. _What is wrong you? _She didn't want Lucius anymore. Yet, she couldn't bear the thought of him with someone else.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Narcissa exclaimed, colliding into a woman who'd just entered the loo.

"It's alright, Mrs Malfoy. Are you OK?" Daphne Greengrass asked with a concerned look on her face. "Do you need me to get someone to help you?"

"No, thank you. It's quite alright," Narcissa responded, shaking her head. She stepped around Daphne and shoved her hands under the faucet, trying to control a blush from spreading across her cheeks. "It must have just been something I ate," she lied, hoping the younger witch wouldn't pursue it further.

Daphne nodded and proceeded to survey her perfect reflection in the mirror. Narcissa stole small glances at the younger woman who resembled her in a way. No wonder Lucius picked her.

"Well... it's been so nice seeing you again Mrs Malfoy," Daphne began, turning to look at the older woman. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," she chirped with a small smirk as if to rub in it Narcissa's face that Lucius belonged to her now.

Narcissa returned to her friends and watched as Lucius and Daphne engaged in another passionate kiss. She bade her girlfriends goodnight, claiming illness. They understood and wished her well.

"I'll check on her tomorrow," one woman offered.

"He's a royal arse showing up like that and flaunting it in her face," another spat, shooting a nasty glare his way.

"Poor Cissa," a third lamented.

* * *

><p>Narcissa apparated to her flat, and flung herself on her bed, the scenes from dinner embedded in her mind. She fought to push them out, but all she could see was the dreamy smile etched on Lucius' face as he stared into Daphne's eyes.<p>

She rushed to her loo, feeling sick yet again. After she finished, she laid on the cold tile floor, her slim shoulders shaking as she wept for the lost of what once was and what would never be.


	9. An Interesting Invitation

Narcissa had a difficult time getting through the week after the disastrous dinner. She had more engagements than normal to attend in the Wizarding world, which involved her charitable work at St Mungo's. Narcissa recently spearheaded a team of Healers to find treatments for children hit with supposedly permanent spell damage after the battles that raged during the Second Wizarding War. They managed to reverse some of the more devastating effects of some of the spells. Their progress delighted the hospital administration, prompting them to throw a small celebration in her team's honour. And of course, her presence was mandatory.

The party tested Narcissa's patience and brought her to a breaking point. Once again, her personal life took center stage among the attendees. The papers had been abuzz with theories about Lucius' new relationship. His dinner date created enough fodder to fill the front pages of their papers for an entire week. Narcissa wondered if he'd paid the papers to print their stories in some sick ploy to torture her and make her life more miserable. It wasn't unlike him to pay the _Prophet _to promote his agendas.

Needless to say, Narcissa's mood improved once Friday finally rolled around, giving her a much-needed break from the magical world. Her girlfriends begged her to come to the French restaurant with them. Her girlfriend had indeed caught the eye of the chef, and he invited them all back to sample his newest creations. Narcissa politely refused, simply lacking the energy to put up with more comments about her separation. Also, she didn't want to bump into Lucius or Daphne again. She found safety in Muggle London. Lucius wouldn't dare step foot in _that_ world.

Thankfully, Narcissa's friends seemed to understand and hadn't bothered trying to convince her otherwise. And so, she spent that evening curled up in front of the fireplace in her study. A book lay open on her lap, and a glass of the finest elf-made wine rested between her fingertips. She'd been so engaged in her book that she'd managed to push thoughts of Lucius' far from her thoughts. _Yes, some separation is exactly what I need!_ She decided only to return to the Wizarding world for business purposes. Her girlfriends would simply have to deal with her decision, and she was quite sure she would convince them to understand her reasons.

Narcissa had just gotten to the more thrilling parts of her book when a loud rap against her window startled her. She jumped in her seat, spilling some wine on her robes. She quickly cleaned the spill and returned to her reading, hoping the owl would go away. She wasn't in the mood. The owl rapped again and gave a loud hoot that would most certainly alarm her neighbours.

Sighing, Narcissa plodded to the window and examined the bird, a gorgeous grey owl with striking yellow eyes. She had no idea who owned the bird since grey owls weren't common in Britain. The bird, clearly offended at being left in the cold, ruffled its feathers and puffed out its chest. It took a deep breath, preparing to hoot again. Narcissa shook her head and quickly opened the window, allowing the bird in. The bird extended its leg, allowing Narcissa to unfasten the note tied to it.

_Who could be contacting me_, Narcissa wondered, taking a seat at her desk. She opened the note, which was held together by a gold seal that glittered in the light of her study. _Whoever it is really has the nerve sending an owl like that here!_

_Dear Mrs Malfoy,_

_I hope that my letter finds you well and that you are enjoying your time away from the magical world. I suppose having a safe haven is necessary in these times._

_It has come to my knowledge that you've separated from your husband. Please forgive me if I'm mistaken, and if so, please feel free to discard this note. The papers have printed several stories, so I assume they've at least gotten some of the facts correct._

_Presuming that you are a single witch, I'd like to invite you to dinner this Friday at 7 at Chez Pierre's in Paris. The restaurant overlooks the Seine, and we can take a stroll along the banks if all goes well. _

_You strike me as a woman of sophisticated taste, and I can personally assure you that you will find the food and wine quite enjoyable. The restaurant is far superior to that pathetic excuse for a French restaurant in Diagon Alley. It's quite a shame people believe that is French food. Plus, I'm certain you'll appreciate the change in scenery._

_Please reply to my owl, Orson. Keep in mind that he's a rather persuasive bird. It would be rather cruel to reject him after he travelled so far._

_So what do you say, Mrs Malfoy? Have dinner with me?_

Narcissa crinkled her nose, and her mouth dropped open. Her azure irises narrowed into slits and flitted across the parchment once more. She crumpled the note into a ball and raised her hand, ready to throw it into the roaring fireplace. _This man's got some nerve!_

On second thought, she retrieved her wand from a table across the room and cast every revealing spell she knew over it. None of them could detect the note's origins or sender. She changed her strategy and began to inspect the parchment for any runes embedded in the text. Once again, she found nothing. _Impressive_, she thought, cocking an eyebrow at the parchment. _Oh, come on, one more dinner can't possibly hurt_. _Admit it, you want to know who he is!_

She sat still, staring at the mysterious man's note, her mind forming the pros and cons of attending dinner with him. Orson, annoyed at her inability to decide, hopped over to her side and began pecking at her finger.

"Ouch!" Narcissa exclaimed, sucking on her finger, which begun to bleed due to the bird's ministrations. "Insolent bird," she whispered under her breath. She opened a desk drawer and retrieved a piece of parchment, ink and quill.

Truth be told, she was rather impressed by his ability to hide his identity. There must have been a reason to this, and she wanted to learn his intentions. _Perhaps he's a Frenchman, _she thought as she tied her reply to Orson's leg.

She returned to her seat by the fireplace and shut her book, her desires to read long since gone. Her mind began searching through her clothing to find dress robes suitable to wear in Paris. After all, the witches were far more fashionable there, and she definitely wanted to at least look the part.


	10. Dinner Date

"This one?" Narcissa asked, holding up a sparkly silver silk gown. "Or this one, Rosie?" She put the gown down and held up a dark green one.

She'd spent the past week mulling over her mystery man's identity. She figured that the man was either a Slytherin or a high-ranking government official. Only _that_ type of man would ask her in such a sneaky and clever way. And, he'd definitely want to keep his identity hidden. The press would definitely have a field day if they dined in London.

_Maybe it's Kingsley_, she thought with a small smile. She'd always found him attractive, even more so now that he'd been appointed Minister of Magic. She briefly fancied him during her school days before Lucius entered her life. Plus, Kingsley held a lot of influence and power over their community. She certainly wouldn't mind trying to push some of her agendas on him.

_Or, perhaps it's Potter_, she thought, her smile widening. They _always_ ran into each other at the yearly events celebrating the fall of The Dark Lord. Her face flushed, recalling how Potter's emerald eyes raked over her toned body, admiring her curves. He always looked like he had something to say to her, but could never find the courage. They'd never formally thanked each other for saving each other during the war. Maybe he wanted to thank her now. She wouldn't mind a little one-on-one time with the infamous Boy Who Lived.

"The dark green one," Narcissa's favourite house-elf replied, interrupting Narcissa's musings. "Looks better with your skin tone."

"Excellent choice!" replied Narcissa, flashing Rosie a smile. Rosie's face shone brightly, thrilled to have received approval from her mistress. "Please draw me a bath, and don't forget to add the rosewater," she instructed.

"Yes, Mistress," Rosie dutifully responded before setting off for the bathroom.

Narcissa took a seat in front of her vanity and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't enchanted, which was a relief. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what it'd have to say. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she felt a wave of nausea run through her. For some reason, this date made her more nervous than the last two. Perhaps it was because she wasn't aware of his identity. Then again, she hadn't been aware of the other two suitors either. But, Draco had vetted them, so she trusted him not to set her up with anyone too strange. _Then again, he basically set you up with the two strangest wizards possible!_

"Ready, Mistress!" Rosie called.

"Thank you," Narcissa replied. "I'll call you once I'm finished. You can help me get ready."

"Yes, Mistress! Rosie would love to help!" the elf squeaked, her big eyes widening with excitement.

Narcissa stripped off her robe and slid into the tub. The warm water and sensual smell of the rosewater took over, allowing her to relax and push her worries aside.

Thirty minutes later, Narcissa called Rosie to help her prepare for her date. Her nerves had subsided for the most part. She figured she could always make up an excuse and leave if it wasn't going well.

"How shall we do your hair?" Rosie inquired, leading Narcissa to the chair in front of her vanity. The elf's thin fingers ran through her mistress's soft silky hair. She massaged her mistress's scalp to relieve some of her tension.

"Up?" Rosie pulled some of Narcissa's hair behind her head and twisted it into a bun. "Or down with some curls?" Rosie dropped Narcissa's hair and curled a lock around her fingers.

"Up," Narcissa decided after Rosie gave her a few more style suggestions. The tiny elf nodded and set to work on her mistress's hair, determined to make it perfect.

"This good?" asked Rosie several minutes later. Narcissa glanced at her hair in the mirror that Rosie held up behind her head. Rosie had curled pieces of it and wrapped it around a low bun at the base of Narcissa's neck.

"It's perfect!" Narcissa exclaimed. She turned around and flung her arms around the tiny elf, catching Rosie off guard. She yelped before hugging Narcissa back.

Rosie sat on Narcissa's bed and watched Narcissa put on her makeup and jewelry. Narcissa kept her makeup simple and natural. She'd let the gown do all the work. She never needed to wear much makeup thanks to her Black genes.

Rosie held up the dress, and Narcissa stepped into it. Rosie zipped it up and the two stared at Narcissa's reflection in a floor length mirror. The bodice evening gown clung to Narcissa's curves, and the dark green colour complemented her pale skin tone perfectly. A pair of silver open toe stilettos and a pair of knotted silver earrings completed her look.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful, Mistress!" Rosie gushed, clapping her hands in approval.

XXX

Narcissa called up the image of the restaurant in her mind, thankful that she'd visited it before. She arrived with a few minutes to spare. The mystery man hadn't left her any instructions on how they'd meet. She minced through the crowd that had gathered by the door, careful to keep her dress and toes out of harm's way.

"Good evening, Mrs Malfoy!" exclaimed the host. "Pleasure to have you back!"

"Good evening, Jacques," Narcissa responded, giving him a small smile. "Your English has improved."

"Why, thank you, Mrs Malfoy. Please follow me."

Narcissa nodded and followed Jacques to a tiny table tucked into a semi-private alcove. He pulled out her chair and spread her serviette across her lap after she sat down.

"May I offer you a complimentary glass of wine while you wait?"

"Yes, please." Jacques poured some red wine into her glass. "Thank you, it's delicious," she complimented after taking a sip.

"You're welcome. Enjoy your meal, and don't hesitate to ask for me if you need anything."

Narcissa grew more nervous as each minute passed. She fingered the edge of the white tablecloth covering the dark wood tabletop. She arranged and rearranged the candles on the table to make sure the light framed her face in the most attractive way. She eyed the vase, which contained a single red rose. She contemplated whether to change its colour as so her date wouldn't get the wrong impression.

_Please don't tell me I've wasted my time!_ Twenty minutes had passed with no sign of her date. Jacques returned to check on her a few times and offered her more wine since her glass was just about empty. She declined his offers, refusing to let herself get pissed. _Ten more minutes and I'll leave._ Perhaps the man had gotten held up due to inclement weather wherever he lived. Or, maybe he had a family emergency. Narcissa refused to believe she'd been stood up.

_One more minute to go_, Narcissa thought eyeing the clock. _I'll go home, drink a big glass or two of wine and forget this ever happened._

XXX

"Good evening, Narcissa."

Narcissa stiffened, her eyes widening as the man's deep, husky voice filled her ears. She grew a bit woozy after inhaling his cologne. His warm breath tickled her, and goosebumps appeared on the exposed flesh of her upper back. She knew she had to turn around and address him, but she couldn't think or move.

Eventually, her curiosity got the best of her. She cast a glance over her shoulder and almost fell out of her seat upon seeing the man seated behind her.

"Lucius?" she exclaimed, her voice higher than she intended. She frowned, noticing the empty chair across from him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, lowering her voice as not to attract attention to them.

She held her breath, hoping that he wasn't with a woman. She really didn't have it in her to meet his latest conquest. She didn't fancy another meeting with Miss Greengrass either.

"I had a date," he began. "But, that was half an hour ago, and she never showed," he added, shrugging his shoulders. "Quite a shame really… I was growing quite fond of her."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Narcissa bit her lip to prevent a smug smile from forming on her face. "Maybe she's just running late?"

"No… I don't think so," Lucius replied with a soft sigh. He picked up his wine glass, swirled the red liquid around and took a sip. "It's all right. Her loss, really."

"Yes, indeed," Narcissa agreed, her mouth moving a hare faster than her brain. Her face flushed, and she cast her eyes at the dark hardwood floor. She missed the huge smirk that formed on Lucius' face.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I also had a date, but it doesn't look like he's showing up either," Narcissa answered, still refusing to look at him.

"May I sit with you?" Lucius inquired. "You shouldn't dine alone."

"I don't know…" Narcissa began. "He may just be running a little late."

"Why don't I keep you company for now? I'll leave if he shows up," suggested Lucius.

"All right," Narcissa acquiesced softly. She turned around before she could catch Lucius' eye. She reached for her wine glass and tipped the rest of its contents into her mouth. She heard a rustle of fabric, and seconds later, Lucius appeared before her. He sat down and spread his serviette across his lap.

The estranged couple sat in silence for a few moments, simply eyeing each other. The last four years had been good to Lucius, and her azure irises roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of him. He was clad in perfectly tailored black dress robes. A simple black ribbon held his hair, his strong jawline had a sprinkle of scruff and his grey eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

Lucius' eyes moved up and down her body, taking in her lovely figure. She felt a full-body blush forming and couldn't stop it. It was as if he was undressing her with his eyes. Her stomach tightened, and her heart thumped faster against her chest.

"Excuse me." Narcissa fled to the loo, not bothering to wait for Lucius' response. She considered going home and leaving him behind. Unfortunately, her purse, which contained her wand, remained on the table. She splashed some cold water on her neck, hoping to tame her nerves and cool down. She surveyed her reflection in the mirror, making sure no hair was out-of-place. _You can do this._

"Sorry," she apologised when she returned to her seat.

"Are you all right?" Lucius asked, the concern clear in his tone.

"Yes, I'm fine," Narcissa quickly answered, hoping he wouldn't push the issue. He nodded and turned his attention back to his wine glass.

XXX

Another awkward silence filled the space between them. Narcissa occasionally glanced at the clock, hoping her date would show. _That was 45 minutes ago. He's not showing up! Tell Lucius you're not feeling well and go home._ Yet, she couldn't move. She stole glances at him when he wasn't looking her way. She had so many questions to ask him, but the words remained trapped in her throat.

"May I get you anything?" Jacque asked, breaking the stuffy silence. "More wine?"

"Yes, please!" Narcissa and Lucius answered at the same time. Jacques chuckled and refilled their glasses. Narcissa resisted the temptation to ask him to leave the bottle.

"Ready to order?" Jacques placed a small French baguette and a dish with a small square of butter on the table. "Perhaps an appetizer to start?"

"We'll start with the oysters and steak tartare," Lucius requested without bothering to look at the menu. Narcissa made a small noise of displeasure and stepped on Lucius' foot to get his attention. He briefly looked at her, clearly unbothered by the look on her face. "For our mains, I'll have the boeuf bourguignon and she'll have the trout."

"Anything to drink?"

"Whatever wines work best with the dishes will do."

"Sounds good, Mr Malfoy. I'll put your order in."

"Thank you, Jacques."

Narcissa pressed her lips into a thin line and glared at Lucius. _Who does he think he is?_ "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Ordering food," Lucius responded with a smirk. "That's what one normally does when at a restaurant, isn't it?"

"You didn't _have_ to order for me."

"There's no need to get your knickers in a bunch over it…" Lucius drawled. "That is… if you're even wearing any. And, if that's the case, we can skip the meal and go straight to dessert."

Narcissa let out a tiny yelp, which didn't go unnoticed by Lucius. He threw a lascivious glance her way to add insult to injury. As predicted, her cheeks reddened, and he bit his lip to prevent from laughing.

Narcissa glared back at him, hoping to covey with a look what words couldn't express. She fisted her serviette and tried to control her sudden urge to slap him.

"All I'm saying is that we both _know_ that you were going to order the trout. You _always_ do. Jacques even knows. I simply saved you the trouble of having to ask for it."

Narcissa opened her mouth to reply, but was unable to due to the arrival of Jacques. He set down their appetizers along with their wine pairings and left after asking whether they needed anything else. _Too bad you can't give me a new husband,_ Narcissa thought as she watched Jacques' retreating figure.

Narcissa pulled the food toward her, placed large amounts on her plate and stuffed it into her mouth as quickly as possible.

"Wow, someone's hungry!" Lucius commented. "I honestly don't understand why you won't even have a simple conversation with me, Narcissa. What have I done to you?"

"You were planning a third coming, and you wanted to use _my_ money to do it. That's what _you _did," she spat.

"Darling, there's a difference between planning to do something and _actually_ doing it," Lucius explained. "Have you heard _anything_ about another Dark Lord since we separated?"

Narcissa shook her head and stared at her plate, unwilling to see the smug reaction on his face.

"That's because I didn't do it. I could have, but it wasn't worth the trouble," he admitted, hanging his head. "I don't know of anyone else attempting to start another coming either," he added.

"I _told_ you so," Narcissa gloated.

"Yes, you did. Your money remains untouched in your account."

"Good."

XXX

Narcissa immediately relaxed after Lucius' admission. She couldn't detect any dishonesty in him either, which pleased her.

"So, how have you been?"

Lucius launched into a summary about his life without her. She commented on a few things, asking him more questions to keep him talking. He started discussing his latest business ventures, which always bored her. She rested her chin in her palm, taking in his undeniable beauty, which always mesmerised her. He was like a fine wine that only got better with time and age.

"… Business ventures are improving… people are beginning to trust the name Malfoy again…"

"That's nice," she responded airily. She imagined wrapping his flaxen locks around her fingertips and stroking his bare chest, which looked more muscular. _Who's he trying to impress?_

"Anyway, you do agree that Draco has made a better match, correct?"

_What the hell is he talking about? _Narcissa made a note to scold her son the next time she saw him. It shocked her that Draco withheld this news from her. She opened her mouth to reply. Luckily, their main courses arrived, saving her the trouble.

"The Parkinsons were quite upset that a proposal wasn't forthcoming," Lucius explained, digging into his dish. "It wasn't as if we'd entered into a contact with their family. Evidently, Miss Parkinson has fancied Draco since their fourth year. But, his heart's set on Astoria Greengrass," he finished, popping a piece of beef into his mouth. He moaned appreciatively and took a small sip of his red wine.

"Well…" Narcissa started, pretending to ponder over Lucius' words for a moment. She cut a piece of trout and popped it into her mouth, effectively buying herself more time to think. "A more neutral match _is_ better for him," she agreed.

"Yes," Lucius affirmed. "I couldn't force Parkinson on him after everything he's experience. He deserves to be happy. The Parkinsons will get over it. Rumor has it that Flint's boy has his eye on Parkinson's daughter anyway."

"Astoria's older sister is also a lovely girl, isn't she?" Narcissa asked without thought. She cringed, hoping he hadn't heard her.

Lucius shrugged and cocked an eyebrow up at her. His face remained impassive, unwilling to give anything away. Narcissa almost resorted to reading his mind to extract the information she desired. However, she thought better of it for fear she'd see more than she wanted.

"You'll have to meet Astoria. She's a lovely girl, and I'm sure you'll like her. We'll all go out to dinner. The Greengrass sisters adore that French place in Diagon Alley. We can meet there."

Narcissa nodded and turned her attention back to her delicious trout. They continued to discuss Draco, which helped their conversation flow smoothly.

"He's turning into a great man, you know," Lucius opined. "I'm sure it was due to _your_ upbringing. Merlin only knows I did more _harm_ than _good_."

Narcissa flushed and didn't bother responding to his comments. Deep down, she knew he was right, and he certainly wouldn't have become one of _them_ if she could have prevented it.

"Anyway, you look lovely," Lucius complimented as they finished their main courses. "That dress suits you quite well."

"Thank you." Narcissa positively beamed at his compliments.

"So, how have you been?"

Narcissa told him about her life outside the Wizarding World. To her surprise, he didn't pass judgement over how she'd chosen to live her life for the last four years. He simply asked questions about certain things, mainly Muggle in nature, which confused him. He seemed pleased that she'd reunited with her sister and made close friends.

"Well… whatever you're doing… keep it up." Lucius reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. Narcissa flinched at the sudden contact, but didn't pull her hand away. "You still wear this?" Lucius asked incredulously, fingering her wedding ring.

"It keeps away the unwanted men," she confessed. "Though, for some, it only seems to further entice them."

"I see," Lucius said in a tone she couldn't quite place.

Eventually, they finished their main courses and moved to the dessert course. They split a decadent chocolate mousse topped with a dollop of whipped cream and chocolate shavings.

"Oooh…" Narcissa moaned, pulling her spoon out of her mouth. "Delicious!"

"You've got a little something here." Lucius reached across the table and wiped some chocolate from her bottom lip. Narcissa's eyes widened as Lucius' thumb traced her bottom lip making sure he'd removed it all. His forefinger caressed the soft skin under her chin.

"Thank you," she breathed, trying not to voice her growing desire.

XXX

"Let's take a walk," Lucius suggested once they'd finished dessert and stepped outside.

"Oh, I don't know… it's getting late," Narcissa refused, trying to let Lucius down gently.

"Please, Cissa. One walk won't kill you. And, it isn't safe to Apparate home with a full stomach." He extended his hand to her. Narcissa stared at it for a moment before placing her hand in his.

The strolled down to the riverbank hand in hand, admiring the beautiful sight of the Seine at dark. The dimmed streetlights cast a romantic glow about them. Narcissa's mind wandered to happier times with Lucius, and her chest tightened upon realising that she'd missed him, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

"Cissa, stop." Narcissa obeyed and came to a halt. Lucius stepped behind her, removed his outer robes covered her bare shoulders.

"Thank you." Narcissa put her arms through the sleeves and tugged it around her waist.

"You're welcome." Lucius took her hand and continued to guide them down the riverwalk. In the distance, Narcissa could hear the melodic sounds of a tango. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed couples dancing by the river's edge.

"Dance with me?"

"No," Narcissa replied, wringing her hands at her sides. "I can't."

Lucius pulled her into an empty alleyway. He pulled out his wand and transformed her dress into one fit for dancing. "Please, Narcissa. Just one dance."

Narcissa hesitated before granting Lucius' request. She let him lead her to the river's edge where they took their places among the other couples. Her resolve melted as she stepped into his arms. They fit perfectly together. He confidently guided her through the dance, their movements in perfect harmony despite not having danced in forever.

Eventually, Narcissa's feet began to ache. She asked Lucius to take a break and he complied, taking her back to the empty alleyway. She flicked her wand over her dress, changing it back to the original one. She conjured herself a shawl and returned Lucius' outer robes.

"It's getting late. I should go," Narcissa said, focusing on the tile wall behind his shoulder. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Will you be able to Apparate home safely?"

"Yes."

"So, I guess this is goodbye then."

"I guess it is."

Narcissa meant to turn away from him, but her body forced her in the opposite direction, moving closer and closer to him. Lucius wasted no time wrapping an arm across her waist, pulling her flush against his body. She tensed and tried to break free of his hold.

"Don't even think about it," he rasped, cupping her chin and bringing her face up to his. His cool grey eyes shone with unbridled desire. "We both know you want this."

Her eyelids fluttered, and she tilted her chin up, silently asking him to continue. Lucius dropped his head, slowly closing the distance between them. His lips gently brushed against hers. His tenderness took her breath away, and she moaned into his mouth. Pleased that she'd welcomed his advances, Lucius gently nudged her mouth open, deepening the kiss.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Narcissa pulled him closer, running her hands all over his body. He walked her back and pressed her against a tiled wall. He removed his mouth from hers and began kissing her neck. He wrapped one of her legs around his waist and pushed her dress up. His fingertips caressed her calf, and she moaned as they stroked her upper thigh.

"No, not here." Narcissa pushed his hand away and dropped her leg to the ground. "Come with me."

XXX

Seconds later, Narcissa Apparated them to her front doorstep. She struggled to steady her hands while she fished around her purse for her wand. Lucius pressed her into the door, allowing her to feel his growing arousal pressed against her backside. He started to plant kisses on the back of her neck.

Once inside, they engaged in another passionate kissing session. They made their way up the marble staircase, leaving behind a trail of shoes, clothing and accessories.

"Do you want this?" Lucius asked, momentarily pulling away from her.

"Yes, Lucius," Narcissa purred, dragging him into her bedroom.


	11. Undeniably Yours

**A/N: Rating change to M due to upcoming sexual scenes. Skip them if you must.**

* * *

><p>Their lips remained attached as Lucius shut the door behind them. They didn't bother to lock the door, erect wards or cast any Silencing Charms. They'd lost their wands sometime during their ascent up the marble staircase to her bedroom. They wanted each other badly, and they couldn't wait to get their hands on each other.<p>

Lucius pushed Narcissa up against the door and spread her legs with his knee. He wrapped one of her legs around his waist and cupped her bottom. Narcissa moaned into his mouth, feeling his fingertips digging into her sensitive flesh. Lucius wasted no time deepening their kiss, allowing his tongue to flit out and caress hers.

Narcissa trailed a hand down his body, tracing the hardened indentations of his stomach and chest. She tugged on his nipples, eliciting a groan from him, which made her smirk. Her hand continued down his torso, stopping to caress the sensitive skin under his navel. She slowly lowered her hand and stroked his hard length. Lucius groaned louder and gently thrust his hips in time with her hand.

She stroked him for a few minutes before lining him up with her entrance, attempting to put him inside her. Lucius chuckled and removed her hand from his cock. He wrapped a hand around her wrists and placed her hands over her head. Narcissa whimpered, displeased that he was denying her. She positively ached with the need to feel him deep inside her.

Lucius tore his lips away from hers and buried them into her neck. He nibbled, licked and sucked every inch, causing Narcissa's legs to tremble mercilessly under his ministrations. He knew the exact spots to hit to make her melt, and he lavished each of them with attention. He smirked into her neck, knowing that this was just the beginning.

He trailed his lips down her shoulder before coming to rest at the top of her heaving breast. He pulled away, letting his warm breath ghost on her nipple. Goosebumps appeared on the pale flesh surrounding it. He brought his lips back and captured it between his teeth. He gently nipped her rosy nipple, earning a breathy moan from the writhing witch beneath him. He took it into his mouth and licked and sucked the bud until it hardened.

With his free hand, Lucius caressed the soft skin behind her knee, climbing higher and higher to the spot where she desired him the most. Her inner thighs, already coated with her growing arousal, trembled under his touches. He let his fingers get close, gently stroking skin at the very top of her legs, right outside her outer folds. He traced circles into her flesh for a few seconds before travelling back down her leg, coming to rest at her knee.

She quickly grew needy, her impatience growing. She wanted him, and she wanted him _now_. She grew frustrated with his teasing, and she wished she could have her hands back so she could place them right where she wanted them. She was already on the edge of falling apart, and he hadn't even properly touched her yet.

Narcissa arched her back and whimpered loudly as he continued his torturous touches. In an effort to feel some relief, she tried to grind herself on his knee, which rested between her legs. Lucius immediately scolded her and moved his lower body away from her, keeping his knee just out of her reach.

"Stop teasing me, you bastard," she growled. "I want it."

"Is that so?" Lucius softly stroked her soaked outer folds. "Like this?" He inserted only the tip of his finger into her. He moved it back and forth, bypassing her clit and refusing to go any deeper.

"Yes," she hissed, attempting to impale herself on his finger. He pulled away, shook his head and laughed.

"Patience, luv. Patience," he chided, watching her eyes narrow into tiny slits. She huffed and an incredibly sexy pout formed on her lips. He tore his eyes away from her luscious lips, avoiding the temptation to give into her completely. "I'll give it to you. I _promise_." He absolutely adored having her all worked up. He wanted to push her to the very edge, knowing the outcome would be much more pleasurable for her.

She obeyed and became fully submissive, allowing him to teased and torture as he pleased. Without warning, he shoved his finger deep into her and began rubbing it back and forth in a quick and rough pace. His thumb rubbed circles onto her rock hard clit, and his lips descended on her neck again.

"Oh god, Lucius!" Narcissa hissed. "Right there! Yes… just like that…"

Distracted by her sexy moans, he loosened his grip on her hands. She broke free and immediately cupped his toned arse. Her sharp nails dug into his skin, causing him to hiss and bite down on her collarbone, which turned her on even more. He inserted a second finger into her, curling it up and stroking her most pleasurable spot buried deep inside her. Her tight channel began to pulsate around him, and he knew she was close. He quickly brought her to the edge, knowing that one more touch would have her falling apart against him.

"Damn you, Lucius!" she roared as he withdrew his fingers.

"Patience, darling," he drawled, refusing to enter her body, which shook against the door. "What's the magic word, luv?"

"Now! Right now!" She slammed her palms into the door.

"Close enough," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders. He roughly shoved his fingers back into her, burying them to the hilt. He quickly found her clit, rubbed it back and forth and pinched it between his forefinger and thumb. He doubled his efforts until she was practically sobbing against him.

"Oh, god, Lucius!" she screamed as she felt her orgasm quickly approaching. Her body started to convulse around his fingers, and her legs felt like jelly. She felt her back slipping down the door.

Lucius' strong arms pulled her back up, and he wrapped her other leg around his waist. He carried her to the bed and gently laid her on top of it. He spread her legs and drove his tongue deep into her, delivering strokes of intense pleasure. Her head thrashed to and fro, and it was almost too much. She tried to wriggle away from him, but he pressed his forearms into her thighs, holding her down and open for him. His tongue circled her clit, and she felt as if she was about to faint from the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through her flushed body.

"Shite, Lucius… feels so good…"

Encouraged, Lucius' fingers joined his tongue, thrusting back into her at a fast and hard pace that had her panting. He curled his fingers up, easily finding her most sensitive spot. He bit down gently on her clit, and she came with a deafening scream around his mouth and fingers. Her back arched off the bed as her body convulsed. Her hands dug into his scalp, yanking on his long locks. Lucius' eyes widened, and he clenched his jaw, trying hard to ignore the pain. Eventually, her grip let up and he stayed put, drinking her pleasure until she finally came down from her high.

"Was that to your liking, Mrs Malfoy?" he smirked, raking his eyes up and down her flushed body, smeared lipstick and messy hair. Her body shook with the aftermath of her orgasm. He kissed up her stomach and chest, coming to rest at her lips. He placed a soft kiss on them. She nodded and kissed him back.

"Your turn." She pushed him off her, climbed on top of him and straddled him between her thighs.

Lucius laid back and rested his head in his hands. His mouth dropped in anticipation, completely in awe of the beautiful woman sitting on top of him. She slowly rose and lowered herself on him, slowly working him into her body. He desperately wanted to pull her to his chest and thrust into her, but he stayed still, knowing that she wanted control the pace.

She started off maddeningly slow, allowing only the head of his cock inside her. She removed him from her and rubbed his tip against her clit. Lucius growled and dug his fingers into her hips. He thrust his hips off the bed, hoping she'd move faster.

"No, Mr. Malfoy. I don't think so," she teased, wagging a finger at him. She bit down on her bottom lip and pried his hands off her hips. "This isn't how this is going to work." She pushed his arms to his sides and wrapped her hands around his wrists.

Lucius sighed, knowing that he was eventually going to pay the price for teasing and tormenting her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she released his hands and sank down, allowing his full length inside her. Lucius gasped as the pleasing sensation of complete fullness took over him. She rocked her hips back and forth, moving faster and faster.

"You feel so good." Lucius' eyes rolled in the back of his head as he watched his wife move. She drove him wild – the way she bit down on her lower lip and how she played with her nipples. She leaned forward, and her blonde hair formed a curtain over his face. "Oh god… just like that," he whinged, caressing her back as she continued to move at a dizzying pace.

Eventually, her movements started to slow, and he knew that it was his time to take over. He pulled her down, loving the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. He lifted his hips off the bed and plunged into her, his cock hitting her cervix. She whinged and allowed him set the pace until she caught her breath. Soon, she started moving with him. Their bodies rocked harder and faster against each other until they both climaxed together.

XXX

Narcissa rolled off Lucius, panting hard and struggling to catch her breath. Her long blonde hair fanned out across the pillows. She placed her palms on her stomach, trying to still her rapid heartbeat. A small smile spread across her face.

She'd _finally_ gotten what she wanted. The Weasley boy had been a touch too soft. He had required too much guidance and instruction. Xenophilius had been a tad too rough. Lucius was _just right_, and he'd given her so much pleasure. Only he knew what spots to hit to make her beg, moan and scream. Only he could fill her with so much love and passion.

Turning to her side, Narcissa scooted closer to Lucius and wrapped a leg around his lower body, effectively pinning him to the bed. Lucius smirked at his wife's outward display of possession. She rested her head against his shoulder and placed a hand on his chest. She had him back, and she didn't want to let him go. Lucius shifted slightly and put an arm over her shoulders, pressing her into his chest.

Her smile grew wider, staring at his closed eyes and flushed face. He hadn't completely recovered from their vigorous session. The heat radiated off his body, and she felt his heart thudding against his chest. Her hand flitted down his body, caressing the hardened planes of his stomach and chest.

Lucius sighed softly, pleased have his wife's arms around him again. He remained still, allowing her hand to continue its journey up and down his body. He buried his face into her hair, breathing in the lingering scent of rosewater. He'd missed her so much when they were apart. In that moment, he vowed to do whatever he could to make sure that she stayed in his life where she belonged.

He ran his hand up and down the smooth skin of her back. A soft, appreciative moan escaped her lips. Encouraged, he continued his ministrations until his fingers found the side of her rounded breast. He traced it with a single finger, earning a louder, breathier moan from his wife.

Lucius rolled them over and pressed his chest into her curved back. Narcissa sighed once more, enjoying his warmth. He palmed her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until it formed into a hardened peak. She felt his warm breath on his neck, and her eyes closed as he planted soft kisses on it.

"I love you, Cissa," he whispered into the outer shell of his ear, pressing his lips into the sensitive spot behind it. "I love you so much, and I never want to let you go again. My life has been a complete mess without you by my side. I'm so _sorry_ for everything I've done wrong, and I'll do _whatever_ you want to make it right. Please do not leave me again. I don't know if I can bear it." A tear fell from his eye. More soon followed and covered her slim shoulder.

Narcissa rolled over and tilted her chin up, locking eyes with her husband. The tears that trickled down his face broke her heart. She reached up, brushed them away and made soft reassuring noises to calm him down. She waited until he regained his composure before she opened her mouth to reply.

"Luv, you're in _my_ flat," Narcissa pointed out. "I'm not going anywhere," she responded, running a hand through his long blond hair, unraveling the tangled strands.

"No, Cissa! You _know_ what I mean!" Lucius growled. "What did _this _mean?" He gestured to the space between them. "Do _I_ mean anything to _you_? Do you _love_ me? Do you want me to _leave_?" His head fell to his chest, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to still the tears that threatened to fall down his face.

Narcissa remained silent for a few moments, surveying the broken man before her. Her brow furrowed, and she bit her bottom lip, watching him trying to keep his composure. She carefully considered her options. She couldn't deny that she _still_ loved him, despite everything that they'd been through over the years. A part of her heart would _always_ belong to him. She did want him back, but she wasn't sure she could trust him to keep out of trouble and quit planning more ludicrous schemes. She wanted him to trust her and allow her to make the decisions on how their family would fully regain their standing in the Wizarding world.

"Sweetheart, insecurity doesn't suit you," she stated, shaking her head. Her hand snaked up his chest, cupped his chin and tilted his face up to hers. "Stop crying. Malfoys do not cry."

Lucius' eyes widened, and he cringed as she used one of his favourite sayings against him. "Just answer! Please!" he begged, wiping away the tear tracks from his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Shh…" Narcissa instructed, placing a finger on Lucius' lips. "I don't want you to leave. I do _love_ you…"

"But?" Lucius interrupted, his brow crinkling. Her response didn't sound convincing. He attempted to move away, but she wrapped her legs around his body, keeping him in place.

"I'm not sure I can trust you," Narcissa admitted. "I trusted you, and it hurt me so much to discover what you had planned. I couldn't believe that you'd be _stupid_ enough to throw away _everything_ we'd been working so hard to regain. Worst of all, you didn't even bother to consider my opinions. They didn't even matter to you."

"We could have discussed it, Narcissa! You left without giving us a chance to talk about it!"

"Lucius, I _had_ to! You wouldn't have listed to me! And, I would have eventually given into you like always!" Narcissa countered. "Do you know how long I've wanted to work as a Healer? Do you know how long I've wanted to been seen as something other than the perfect pure-blood wife and mother? I'm _finally_ making a positive contribution to the world, and I _refuse_ to give that up."

"I'm not asking you to," Lucius replied. "I meant it when I said I'd be willing to do _whatever_ you want. We can even live here if you'd like. It's closer to St Mungo's, and Draco and Astoria can move into the Manor once they've wed. You don't have to give _any_ of this up for me."

"Really?"

"Yes," confirmed Lucius. "It makes you happy and you deserve it, Cissa. I saw it in your eyes when you told me about your work at St Mungo's. You've made such a difference there, and I am extremely _proud_ of you," he added, flashing her a smile.

"That's good," she murmured. "But, how do I know you've _changed_? Yes, you didn't do what you'd planned, but how do I know you haven't planned something else?"

XXX

"Have a look," urged Lucius, pointing to his temple. Narcissa shook her head, unwilling to enter his mind. She recalled his intimate moments with Miss Greengrass. She really couldn't handle it if she saw him with more women. "Please, Cissa."

She nodded and wordlessly entered his mind. Images of Lucius sitting in front of a roaring fireplace, staring at the flickering flames with tears falling down his face and a tumbler of Firewhisky clutched in his hand assaulted her. His sadness over their separation consumed him entirely, and stripped him of his health and beauty. Unlike her, he lacked a strong support group to pull him from his grief. Draco helped a little, but Draco felt like Lucius deserved what he got after the way he'd treated her. It took Lucius a full two years to recover.

She watched him successfully avoid temptation to engage in any further wrongdoing. Plenty of offers trickled in, but he turned them down. Instead, he worked behind the scenes, donating money and providing business suggestions to several charities that formed after the end of the war. To her surprise, he'd been one of the biggest benefactors to some of St Mungo's newer initiatives, including hers.

In the next memory, Lucius watched her accept her role as the head of her team. He hid in the shadows of the dim ballroom that evening. His eyes shone with undying love, devotion and pride as he watched her take centre stage. He clapped loudly when she had finished discussing the goals she had for the cursed children. Of course, he left before she spotted him, knowing that his presence wasn't welcomed or wanted.

Finally, she flipped through his memories from their evening together and their reunion. He'd felt hopeful – that perhaps he could win her back in his life. She felt his sadness when he realised that perhaps their relationship was beyond repair. She confirmed his honesty when he mentioned he'd do whatever she wished so long as he had her back in his life for good.

XXX

"Were there others?" she asked once she'd exited his mind. Lucius' brow furrowed, wondering what possessed her to pose _that_ question when she simply could have found his memories.

"Just two," he admitted, hanging his head in shame. "They were just one time things," he added.

Lucius hadn't wanted to engage in intimacy with anyone other than his wife, but she'd been long gone at that point. He'd been at a bar in Knockturn Alley, encouraged out by Yaxley. He'd been rather inebriated and miserable about his life. The women had been there, ready to help him forget and temporarily numb his pain. Of course, he'd regretted it the moment it was over. The women hadn't been able to compare to his wife, and they most certainly weren't even close to being suitable replacements.

"I suppose that's understandable," replied Narcissa, after a long moment of silence. She didn't enjoy the thought of him with other women, but she didn't blame him. At least he hadn't had any long-term relationships following their separation.

"What about you?" he asked, afraid to hear her response.

"Just two," she whispered back, immediately wishing she'd lied to him.

Lucius' blood boiled, imagining two other sets of hands on his wife. He curled his hands into fists and pressed his lips into a thin line. He wanted to rip apart the men with his bare hands. He opened his mouth to ask her who, but stopped to think about her confession rationally. He realised he couldn't be upset with her. After all, he'd pushed her out of his life with his constant mistakes. He'd also slept with two other women. So, technically, they were even.

"Are you involved with someone now?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly, recalling the loving look in his eyes as he stared at Daphne Greengrass. "Lucius, this won't work if you're involved with someone else…"

"No, Cissa!" Lucius interjected, shaking his head furiously. "Absolutely not!"

"It's just that the papers…"

"Shh…" Lucius placed a finger on her lips. "Narcissa, my heart is undeniably _yours_. It has _always_ been yours, and it'll be yours _forever_. All I'm asking for is a second chance to prove to you that I'm _worth_ it."

Seconds later, Lucius' eyes widened when Narcissa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him flush against her body. Her lips crashed into his, accepting his request with a fiery kiss that made his whole body shake. He kissed her back with just as much passion, forcing her mouth open so he could taste her.

A few minutes later, they pulled apart, breathing hard. Smiles graced their reddened faces. He reached for her hands and intertwined them in his. His heart, full of happiness, felt as if it was about to burst out of his chest.

"I love you so much, Lucius," Narcissa declared, peppering his upper chest with soft kisses. "You're the _only_ one for me. I'm more than willing to give you a second chance."

Lucius responded in kind, positively beaming once he'd heard his wife's words. He looked up at the ceiling and thanked Merlin for blessing him with the most wonderful wife. He looked into her eyes and promised not to make any more mistakes. She simply nodded, and he saw love and devotion shining in her eyes.

He wanted to discuss everything - their future living arrangements and so forth and so on, but she shushed him. She tucked her head into the crook of his arm and placed one last kiss on his shoulder. He ran a hand through her long blonde hair, massaging her scalp and untangling some of the more unruly strands.

Eventually, her eyes drifted shut, and she fell asleep with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Moments later, he succumbed to sleep with a huge smile plastered on his face, incredibly happy to have reunited with his wife at long last.


	12. Reunited

Draco Malfoy arrived at his mother's house the following Sunday. She failed to show up for their weekly brunch. He sat around for hours waiting for her. He even sent her an owl, inquiring about her whereabouts. His message went unanswered. He was completely shocked at her behaviour for it was completely unlike her not to show up. She always showed up. In fact, she tended to show up early, and he was always the one running behind.

He brushed some invisible dirt off his suit coat and tossed a glance over his shoulder, hoping no Muggles had spotted him. _How can she live among them? _He wasn't familiar with her neighbourhood and hadn't bothered finding any hidden places where he could Apparate. _Hopefully I won't have to_, he scoffed, eyeing his surroundings. Sure, the flats were nice enough, but she belonged back in the Wizarding world.

He dismantled her wards with relative ease. He reminded himself to ask her to strengthen them. Granted, her flat would never have the same protections as the Manor, but she could at least try. He'd even offer to help her set them up. _She's getting too comfortable here_, he opined, pushing the door open.

"What the hell!" he cried, tripping over a silver stiletto. He fell, and his face hit the marble floor. He ran his hands over his face, making sure no blood had been split. He stood up, grabbed the offending stiletto and set it to the side. His cool grey eyes scanned the room, which was far messier than he had ever seen it. The stiletto's matching mate, a pair of black men's dress shoes and various articles of clothing covered the marble staircase.

_Merlin's beard! Who could she possibly be with?_ Draco picked up a dark green silk dress and carefully laid it over the banister. _Could she have gone out on another date? _He picked up the black silk dress robes, inspecting the label before laying it over the banister next to the dress. _At least he's got good taste!_ He pulled out his wand and sent the shoes downstairs, placing them next to the lone stiletto. _Heaven forbid anyone else trip over these! Where are her damn house-elves? Why aren't they cleaning up this mess?_

He continued up the stairs, cringing in horror as he spotted a black lace bra and matching knickers atop the staircase. A pair of black boxer briefs lay on the top of the pile. He cringed and stepped over them. _No way in hell I'm touching those!_

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a very familiar walking stick laying outside the door to Narcissa's bedroom. _Impossible! _Draco picked it up and inspected its silver snake's head. _Bloody hell! _He pulled out the wand hidden inside, confirming his suspicions.

He was so engrossed in his investigation that he failed to hear that sounds coming from inside his mother's bedroom. He put the wand back into its hiding place and held up the walking stick, debating whether to put it back where he found it or to place it somewhere else. _Perhaps I'll set it here_, he thought, noticing a side table a few steps down the hall.

"Oh yes, Lucius!" shrieked his mother. "Right there!" Draco heard a loud slap, undoubtedly a hand meeting bare skin. "Don't stop!"

Draco's head snapped up. His eyes widened. _Is that what I think it is? It is, isn't it? What else could it be? _Draco's mind yelled at him to leave as quickly as possible. But, for some reason, his mother's words stunned him, rendering him unable to do anything. He stared at the door, wondering if it'd fall off from the force of the two pressed against it.

"Yeah?" bellowed Lucius. He muttered something Draco couldn't understand. The door stopped rattling. Draco felt the bile rise up in his throat as he heard his mother begging Lucius to continue.

And then, the door started rattling again, even harder this time. Moans and grunts filled the air until the couple reached their completion, her with an ear-splitting shriek that went on for a few minutes and him with a deafening roar.

_Shite! Shite! Shite! You need to leave now! _Draco bent down, attempting to lay his father's walking stick outside the door, back where he'd found it.

Unfortunately, Draco wasn't fast enough, and the door swung open.

"Draco!" his mother exclaimed, startled to see him standing in front of her. Thankfully, she'd donned a robe beforehand. She pulled it tighter around her waist, hoping he hadn't seen anything. He'd certainly heard enough. "What are you doing here?"

"Mother, you missed brunch," Draco said calmly, trying to pretend as if he hadn't been standing outside her bedroom door for the last few minutes. He peeked at her, schooling his face as not to comment on her appearance. Flushed face. Messy hair with strands stuck up in all directions. He almost vomited when he noticed a few love bites that decorated her pale neck. Simply put, she looked completely fucked. And, from the sounds of it, she seemed to have enjoyed every minute of it.

"I'm _so_ sorry," Narcissa apologised. Her cheeks reddened, and she stared at the floor. She'd never felt so embarrassed. _I knew I should have answered that damn owl!_

"Don't worry about it," Draco quipped. "Sounds like someone had a good time!" he added, winking at her.

Narcissa yelped and whacked his arm. She shook her head, grabbed her knickers and threw them into her bedroom. She stepped around him and practically sprinted down the staircase.

"You could have responded to my owl at least!" Draco called after her, finally letting out the laughter trapped in his chest. He turned back around and came face-to-face with a completely naked Lucius.

"Holy shite!" Draco yelled, throwing a hand over his eyes. Lucius placed a hand over himself, picked up his boxer briefs and stepped into them, completely oblivious to his son's reaction. "You could have conjured something to put on," Draco suggested.

"Son, I believe you have my wand."

"Oh, yes!" Draco exclaimed, glancing down at the walking stick in his hands. "Sorry!" He handed it back to Lucius. Lucius conjured a black robe and pulled it on.

"There. Happy?" he asked, belting the robe shut.

Draco took a deep breath and nodded, relieved to see his father clothed.

"Thanks for cleaning up," Lucius commented, looking at the staircase. Draco nodded again, still unable think of anything but the salacious sounds he'd just heard.

"So… it worked?" Draco inquired once he'd gotten his wits about him.

"Well, that's pretty _obvious_, isn't it?" Lucius drawled. A huge smirk spread across his face. "Thank you, son," Lucius added, affectionately patting Draco's shoulder.

"You're very welcome," Draco replied to Lucius' retreating back. A huge smile formed on his face, and he whistled a happy tune all the way down the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: We've reached the end. Thank you to everyone who made it this far, especially those of you who have reviewed, favourited and/or followed. I'll be posting a follow-up story soon, so stay tuned!**


End file.
